The State of Black Queer Recovery
A group photo of 19 Black queer people standing on the sidewalk in front of a metal fence and concrete walls, smiling and embracing.
As I write this message, I am in a hotel room in beautiful New Orleans, LA, attending the 2024 Creating Change conference. This is my 7th year attending Creating Change. I’ve come every year since 2017 to experience this national collective of LGBTQIA+ activists. Over the years the experience has become more and more Trans and more and more BIPOC (Black, Indigenous, People of Color). As I walk the conference halls and move from workshop to workshop, I have a deep sense that this space was designed with me in mind. But there was one panel in particular that has stayed with me. The theme was fascism.
To be Black and Queer and Trans is a political act. What this means is, that by being Black and Queer and Trans puts you at risk. And not just during these difficult political times, but we have always been at risk. The State has always targeted, maligned, dismissed, diminished, and destroyed the lives, livelihoods, and ambitions of Black and Queer and Trans people. Governments, institutions, and powers have never by default amplified, empowered, or fought to preserve our existence. For any of us to survive and thrive, we have had to struggle against the state and gather together in community.
One panelist remarked that as an indigenous person, they have had to exist by “being in community taking care of itself outside of the state.” She called us to “interrogate whether or not democracy is working for you.” And in the wake of local and national fascist movements she called on us to “dream of what it looks like to build a world outside of the state?”
These words brought to mind our reason for The Blackyard Collective. In the tradition of Black communal care, this is what I believe we are doing, “being in community taking care of itself outside of the state.” Because the state is impervious to Black viability, Black people have had to sustain ourselves. We have had to create our own spaces, make our own meals, and hone our own cultures to survive and thrive. And even more so if you are Black+ any other kind of marginalized experience … Black and queer, Black and former incarcerated, Black and living with HIV, Black and addict/alcohol, and on and on. To be Black is to need the shared experience of fellow Black travelers to thrive. It is the beautiful Black joy of our shared experience that becomes the essence of our survival.
In 2024 The Blackyard Collective will mark our first full year … and what a year it will be. We have hosted our third Juneteenth Celebration in New York City and the third Fall Retreat in Provincetown, MA. The Blackyard Collective Advisory Board will host our first-ever Leadership Retreat in Washington, D.C. In 2023, we have already raised $7500 via Facebook Fundraising. In the spring we will launch Collective Conversations, a virtual wellness space where we will address Black grief, Black intimacy, and Black trans identity and experience. Altogether, we have a strong and growing constituency of nearly 100 beautiful Black queer folx across the United States and beyond who are engaging our gatherings. The State of Black Recovery is strong and getting stronger.
The Blackyard Collective Advisory Board is grateful to our many allies, donors, and benefactors who affirm our deep commitment to this work and the need to keep going. May your 2024 be bold, safe, and liberating as we all seek to thrive and survive whatever the year has in store.
